


Thomas Jefferson Honestly Didn't mean to

by GoodShipsDontSink



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Other, Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Alexander Hamilton, but not that slow really, mainly from thomas, trans!alex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-23 01:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodShipsDontSink/pseuds/GoodShipsDontSink
Summary: What happens when going to deliver papers to Hamilton's office suddenly turns into the biggest mistake Thomas Jefferson has ever made?  How can he fix it? Does he fix it?  Is James Madison done with Thomas' flair for being dramatic?  Only one way to find out.





	1. Jefferson

Jefferson didn’t mean to walk in.  

Honestly, he was just on his way to drop of some papers.  Mr. Washington, his boss, had left early that day, and Thomas took that as an invitation to do the same, so he decided he’d drop the remains of his cases at Hamilton’s office, knowing that he would jump at the chance to do any extra work.  Jefferson considered himself a hard worker, but Hamilton was like a storm, ripping through essays and tearing apart anyone who opposed him, namely, Thomas Jefferson himself.  Their debates usually led to raised voices, high intensities, and faces flushed with anger, until their boss would split them up and force them to ‘go for a walk’ which basically was a nicer way of telling the two to leave the room before they lost their jobs.  

Thomas walked towards Hamilton’s office and couldn’t help but think of their meeting today.  The younger man was right up in Jefferson’s face, screaming nonsense, or at least what Thomas assumes was nonsense.  He finds it hard to pay attention sometimes, because he can get distracted by little things like how strands of Hamilton’s unkempt hair would drift to cover his face.  Or how his eyes are always a lit with a sort of flame when he is talking about something he is passionate about.  Or maybe it was just his lips.  Thomas could stare at his lips for hours.  Was it wrong to fight Hamilton just to stare at these features?  Yes.  Was it bad to sit on the phone and gush to his best friend about his minor crush on his sworn enemy?  Yes.  Was there some truth in the fact that he was going to his office just to see him again and maybe let their fingers linger over the documents.  Once again, yes.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans, and when Thomas barged into Hamilton’s office he realized immediately that something was off and he shouldn’t be here.  Normally, Jefferson would be overjoyed that he walked in on his “rival” co-worker changing, but this was a different case.

“Get the hell out of my office!” The man squeaked as he hastily pulled down his shirt and turned away in a failed attempt to his his completely red face.

Jefferson really wasn’t thinking about his face though, his thoughts were what he had just seen, or thought he’d seen, or-

“I said piss off Jefferson!”  The shorter man yelled, but his voice wavered a little, like he was trying to stifle tears.  Jefferson dropped the papers on the desk and awkwardly motioned to the door.

“I, uh, here’s some, uh files, I thought you might- um.  I’ll, uh, I’ll leave.”  He turned on his heel and quickly walked out the door.  He rounded the corner and stalked to his car, thoughts blazing with this newfound information.  How didn’t he know?  He should’ve known, right?  Does it matter to him? Of course not, that’s not even a question, Alex could show up bald and Thomas would still be helpless for him.  His phone chimes and he reaches to check it.

From: Hamilton  
Don’t tell anyone about what you saw.  It doesn’t change anything.  If you have a problem you can take it up with Washington

Jefferson regards his phone with disbelief.  Surely he doesn’t think Thomas is, against him? sighing , he got into his car and turned up the radio, letting the music soothe his thoughts.  Does Hamilton really believe that Thomas would hate him for being born a woman?

\---

Jefferson didn’t know how to make things not awkward.  The days following their encounter led to Hamilton deliberately avoiding him, and finding ways to swindle out of board meetings.  The fact that Hamilton was transgender honestly made no difference to Thomas, a fact that Hamilton himself had yet to grasp.

Currently, the shorter man’s face is twisted in a scowl as he fiddles with his pen in a short staff meeting, one he couldn’t escape.  That didn’t stop him from flipping Thomas off every time the Virginian attempted to make eye contact.  

“-And that, my friends, is why we have separate disposal bins for both garbage and recycling disposal,” finishes Washington, sounding exasperated. “Any questions?”  After a chorus of “no” from everyone, they were all leaving, and Hamilton was the first to get out, blowing by Jefferson.  Thomas reached out a hand to grab his arm. 

“Hamilton, fuck, just listen,” he attempted to explain as he writhed and twisted under Thomas’ firm grip.

“Can’t you just leave me alone Jefferson?  You’ve done enough.”  Thomas’ hand went slack in surprise of the vulnerability in the smaller man’s tone. Hamilton used this chance to slide his arm out of it’s entanglement, and turned to face Thomas.  

“I’m not going to tell anyo-”

“Bullshit.”

“And I’m not going to judge yo-”

“Bullshit.”

“Hamilton, seriously you can trust me-”  At this, Hamilton shot him a glare that had the same effect as a thousand knives digging into his heart.  He shook his head.

“Again, bullshit.”  Thomas tried to talk again but was cut off. “No.  You don’t understand.  This was my first job that I could walk into the interview completely passing.  There is not a soul in the building other than Washington who knows about me, and frankly, I’d like to keep it that way.  Sadly, due to a sick twist of fate, you know, and I can’t erase it from your memory, so listen close.  I don’t want your pity.  I know who I am, and I am proud of it.  Now, you are going to stop pretending you care, keep your outdated, southern opinions to yourself, and get the hell out of my way, I am trying to walk to my office.”  And with that, Hamilton pushed past Thomas and was around the corner, leaving Jefferson open-jawed, shocked, and a honestly a little happy that he was at least arguing with him again.  However any joy that Thomas took from Hamilton being up in his face, was the fact that that very face looked like it was on the verge of tears.  

The Virginian ran a hand through his hair.  After that, how in the hell was Thomas going to get Hamilton to listen to reason?  Or well, anything Jefferson said?  Sighing, Jefferson turned on his heel and made a beeline down the hall, past his office straight into his best friend’s office.  

“Jemmy”, he starts, alerting his best friend of his presence, something the shorter one probably wasn’t even surprised by.  Thomas had a habit of bothering James.  “I need your help.”


	2. Madison

James heard his friend before he saw him.

Technically, he heard the aggressive tapping of his shoes stomping down the hall to his office, but nonetheless he heard him, and that was what mattered.  Even further, James wasn’t surprised with Thomas’ proclamation of needing help.  This too was usual, he would go on and on about a small issue, and beg James for help in the most dramatic of ways.  Laughing slightly to himself, James turned around slowly to face his friend.

“What is it Thomas?  Did you almost die of boredom form Washington’s ramble about recycling?  Because I nearly did, and-” James’ words are cut short when he finally regards his friend and takes in his disheveled appearance.  He immediately sobers and his amused face turns to one of concern.  “Okay so this isn’t about proper waste distribution.  Take a seat, man.”  His taller friend sighs and collapses into one of the leather chairs that sits on the opposite side of James’ desk.  James quickly gets up to close and lock the door, then retreats to his own seat.  Folding his arms, James looks expectantly at Thomas.  

Thomas pulls miserably at a lock of his brown hair and lets it spring up to join the rest of the curls and James sighs impatiently. 

“Thomas, if you aren’t going to-”  
“Do you hate me, James?”  James startles slightly at the question.  Yes Jefferson often had his spiels about hating that Hamilton hated him, but never James.  He answers with caution.

“Obviously not Thomas, why would I-”

“Okay but like if you did, would you tell me?  Because I know for a fact that everyone here hates me and I need your help to fix something I did that I didn’t mean to do, but I did, and they hate me like everyone else, but they hated me before and it’s just even more now and I just need to know if you’ll still not hate me after I tell you what I accidentally did.”  Jefferson finished in a huff, looking dissatisfied and genuinely pained.  James considered this and took a breath.

“I will not hate you Thomas, no matter what you did.” James answered calmly.  Jefferson took another shaky breath and explained his story, a distressed look on his face the whole time.  After a few minutes he finished but James could tell he was leaving out a big piece.  “So that’s it?” James asked leaning, forward, “you walked in on your man getting dressed and saw ‘something that you can not disclose’,” Jefferson scowled, and began to interject, but James continued, “and now he’s avoiding you and hating you even more than before? And this is different from the other times he’s avoided you because..?” James raised an eyebrow.

“Because, I can tell he’s serious this time.  I just, I feel like I can’t do anything right.” Jefferson looks at his hands and mumbles, “and he’s not my man.” James’ heart softens as he watches a look of pain cross his best friends’ face.  He stands up slowly, causing Thomas to finally look up and meet his eyes.  “Jemmy what are you doing?” He asked weakly, as if he was unconvinced that James was actually going to go somewhere.

The shorter man understands where his confusion is coming from, it’s not often that James gets between any disputes of Jefferson and Hamilton, but he feels in his gut that this is important.  

“I’m going to go to Hamilton, ask him what the actual fuck went down in that office, and get you back on track.  You can pine over the guy all you want, but the minute it starts affecting you negatively, I have to step in.”  Jefferson leaps out of his seat and attempts to push on his friend's’ chest.

“James, no, I’m serious, don’t.  He won’t-he won’t tell- fuck you’re strong- wait JAMES!”  Jefferson protests fruitlessly as James pushes past him and into the hallway.  

“You’ll thank me later!” He calls over his shoulder, then continues his walk to Hamilton’s office at the other side of the hall.  He was getting tired of the bullshit these two pulled everyday, and figured that all he needed to do was ask Hamilton what had happened, then compel him to straighten it out.  If James did everything just so, it would be simple to persuade the immigrant to make amends with the taller Virginian.

\--

As it turns out, it was not easy to persuade Hamilton to make amends with Thomas.  That being said, it probably would have been easier if James was able to let himself into Hamilton’s office as he had planned, not standing stunned when the door didn’t budge.  

Weird, Hamilton never used to lock his office door.

James raises a fist to knock on the door, then patiently waits for a response.  After a few seconds of silence, leading James to consider knocking again, there was a sound of book being closed from within the office, and a voice cut through the air.

“State your purpose.”  The voice called, and hearing Hamilton’s squeaky, awkward voice detached from his body would have seemed almost humourous on any other occasion, but James couldn’t crack a smile.  He hesitated briefly before responding.

“Uh, personal business?  It’s Madison.” He finally answers, feeling slightly stupid for talking to a door.  Some shuffling.  A chair screeching.  Footsteps.  The sound of a lock clicking, and suddenly James finds himself face to face with the shorter man, his gaze scrutinizing, like he’s giving Madison a once-over.  Hamilton steps back, but still doesn’t allow room for the Virginian to enter his office.

“And what ‘personal business’ would James Madison have with me?” He asked levelly, staring straight into James’ eyes, as if he could pierce a hole right through his head with his glare.  James takes a second to collect himself.

“I think I’d prefer if we’d continue this conversation in an office.” James suggests, just as coolly, and leans backwards on his heels slightly.  “And technically, it’s not my personal business with you rather than Jeff-”

“Jefferson’s?”  Hamilton finishes for him, cutting him off while still holding his glare.  It’s almost scary how the younger man’s demeanour changed, but he couldn’t quite place it.  A new ferocity had filled Hamilton’s expression, as well as something else that he can’t quite place.  It’s interesting to see something throw Hamilton so off-kilter, especially when it’s just a name.  James cleared his throat, and started to continue.

“Yes, actually, It is Thomas’, and-”

“No.”  

James tries to keep his expression neutral.

“What do you mean no, I haven’t even explained-”

“I said no Madison.  Or did you not catch that, because your brain is filled to the brim of shit that Jefferson whispers into your ear?  I said no, as in no, I do not want to talk about Jefferson’s personal business with me, nor do I ever want to.  In fact you can take whatever bullshit Jefferson told you, and shove it up your ass, because my personal business is just that, my business.  Not Jefferson’s, and sure as hell not yours.”  James makes a noise of indignation, but Hamilton barrels through, now developing and even more feral glint in his eye. He wasn’t shouting, but he certainly was creating a scene.  “Now you listen to me Madison, it would be of your best interest to fucking forget everything Jefferson told you, because he makes shit up.  He’s a liar, okay? A liar who tears people down and belittles them for being different.  I am saying no, fuck that, fuck Jefferson, fuck you, fuck this company,”  Hamilton’s voice grew progressively louder, which was worrying James as they were still technically in a hallway.  Just as it seemed the shorter man was going to explode, a hand rested on his shoulder, silencing him almost immediately.  

“Son, why don’t you come with me to my office?  We can have a chat about your apparent discomfort at this company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is a little vague and all over the place, but it was more of a filler and things will pick up more in the next two chapters, I promise!
> 
> And yes, it is a day late, but I was super distracted this weekend. By distracted, I mean I was blessed with finally seeing Hamilton, in Chicago, and couldn't focus on actually remembering to update. So it's late but it's here!
> 
> The comments on my last chapter motivated me to finish the story so thanks you guys, much appreciated!! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr:  
> https://goodshipsdontsink.tumblr.com/


	3. Washington

Washington, per usual, was unfazed.

Sitting in his office, he watched as his employee stumbled in and collapsed into the chair across from him, pouting petulantly.  The immigrant ran a hand through his hair, a habit he had developed long ago, and Washington felt a wave of nostalgia surge through him.

_“Papa, I’m ho-ome”  A voice called from downstairs, and Washington chuckled to himself.  Thirteen years old, and his adoptive son still found it necessary to announce himself anytime he came through the door, as he did when George had first taken him in at age six._

_“I’m coming, Gil,” he responded, making his way down the stairs.  It was Gilbert’s first day of middle school, and of course George wanted to know every detail.  He didn’t doubt that the French boy had made friends, as he had always carried himself in the most friendly and welcoming manner possible, somehow making everyone in the vicinity drawn to him.  George’s suspicions were confirmed when he was greeted by his son and two others, a boy and a girl all grinning from ear to ear._

_“Papa!”  Began Gilbert excitedly, quickly greeting his adoptive father with a one armed hug.  “These are my new friends, who I’ve invited to dinner tonight.”  George laughed and nodded his head, because they both knew he wouldn’t have said no anyways.  Gil then nudged his two companions forward.  One had a wild curly hair, and a smattering of freckles on every inch of exposed skin.  His posture was stiff and practiced, and he stuck a hand out for George to shake._

_“John Laurens, thank you so much for having us over, Sir.”  George took his hand and nodded his head._

_“A friend of Gil’s is a friend of mine.  You’re welcome anytime.”  Before the girl next to them could introduce herself, Gilbert threw an arm over her, pulling her close._

_“And this, dear father, is Alexandra Hamilton.”  George shifted his attention, finally taking in the girl in front of him.  Her jet black hair fell to her shoulders and covered her face as she shifted forward to greet him.  She ran a hand through her hair before reaching out to shake George’s.  When he met her eye, he was greeted by such an intensity he was almost startled.  She held in her brown eyes purpose and determination.  And a hint of something else that Washington couldn’t quite place._

_“Just Alex if fine,” she clarified, meeting George’s eye, confidence radiating off of her every move.  He could tell now, that she was going places._

_The three remained friends for the entirety of middle school, but a year into their junior year of high school, Alex was wrenched out of Lafayette and John’s life, never to be seen again.  The cousin which he had been staying with had committed suicide, and he was being whisked away to a new foster family.  None of them had been given a chance to say goodbye._

_Five years after Lafayette and John had graduated University, they were living together, engaged, happy, and almost had erased a certain black haired girl from their memories.  Almost._

_To say the very least, George was surprised when he found himself in front of a face that resembled that girl, the same eyes, the same confidence, but with subtle differences, like the patchy stubble or growing sideburns.  They were here for an interview, and George was nearly speechless.  They stuck out their hand like they had all those years ago and stared into George’s eyes._

_“Good afternoon Mr. Washington, I’m here regarding your open position for another advisor.  My name is Alexander Hamilton.”  After a minute of searching his face, George simply nodded and shook his hand, a smile threatening to form._

_“Good to see you again Alex.  Take a seat, son.”_

_The look on the young man’s face was radiant._

_Over the years of working with Alex, George had continued to be a father figure for him, while also maintaining the professionalism of a boss, without favouritism.  Okay, maybe a little favouritism.  But there had been no problems regarding his gender, and George intended to keep it that way._

\--

“Sir, I have a completely adequate explanation for this.”  

George shook himself of his memories and regarded Alex, who still looked disheveled from his yelling match in the hallway.  His eyes were darting around the room, and his hands were shaking slightly, a vast contrast to the usual confidence that the man exuded.  George nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“Jefferson saw me.”

To this George raised an eyebrow.

“This is hardly the time to be informing you son, but Jefferson does see you on a daily basis-”

“He saw me changing.  You know, like changing.”  Hamilton’s eyes were wide with meaning, and George could barely hide the confusion on his face.  This caused Hamilton roll his eyes.  “I was in my office, and I had spilt nearly half of my coffee all over myself.  It wasn’t a big deal, because I had an extra top in that closet you made me install for nights where I fall asleep in the office, but when I took off my shirt, I noticed that I had gotten some on my binder as well.”  Hamilton looked up, “a binder is what holds-”

“Alexander, I am well aware of the function of a binder, thank you very much,” he said, giving a pointed look that told Alex to continue.

The younger man held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I was just making sure.  Anyways, I had some coffee on it, but I figured that if I scrubbed a little it would come out easily.  No such luck.  Sir, you had already left and I assumed everyone else had as well, so I figured that I would just throw my shirt and jacket on, sans binder, and just wait until I got home to clean it.”  He ran a hand through his hair, “that’s when Thomas McFucking Jefferson decided to swoop into my office just so he could get a sneak peek at what was under my shirt, like the little perv he is.”  Alex paused to sneer, and George took this as an opportunity to say what he could.

“Son, I doubt he knew that you would be changing, also why was you door unlocked in thirst place if you were changing-”

“It doesn’t matter!”  Alex cut him off at a near shout. “The point is that my nemesis knows my biggest secret, and is all ‘oh no Alexander I won’t judge you’, and then he wants to talk to me, and then he sends Madison to talk to me, and frankly I am fed up with him pretending to be Mother fucking Teresa, and I just need him to leave me alone.”  Hamilton finishes with a huff, breathing heavily.

George considers, and proceeds slowly, “Have you ever, uh, have you ever considered that he might be telling the truth?”  Alex scoffed and looked like he was ready to say something, but Washington raised a hand, silencing him.  “No really.  Do you recall the time before you two were, what is that you say, ‘sworn enemies’?”  

“Sir, if you’re talking about what I think you are, I’d rather not-”

“Do you recall that it was you who convinced me to hire him?  You would rave for hours on end about how he was exactly what we needed, and how he was a clear asset to our company.  Do you remember that?”

Alex’s ears were burning and he looked down scowling, “That was before I heard his shitty opinions.”  He mumbled, but still refused to meet his boss’ eye.  

“Listen Alex, I’m not telling you what to do.  But if you are any sort of the man that I know you can be, you should at least talk to Thomas, see what he has to say.  Okay?”  He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alex’s huff and shrug of his shoulders was answer enough.  He would talk to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'll update every weekend!"
> 
> ... a few months later...
> 
> So sorry for the super late update, but hey, at lest it's here! I have a lot of works in the making right now, and honestly have no idea when I'll upload the last chapter. All I can promise is that it won't be as long of wait as this one was :) 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for deciding to read this! Updates should come every weekend, should you want to keep reading. Comment if you want, it would make me super happy :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at:   
> https://goodshipsdontsink.tumblr.com/


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